


heart on display

by SilentRabidWriter



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Declarations Of Love, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Hand Jobs, Kink Exploration, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Nervousness, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon, Tender Sex, Tenderness, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Wing Grooming, Wing Kink, extremely soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-02-23 05:43:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23539996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilentRabidWriter/pseuds/SilentRabidWriter
Summary: When Crowley asks to take care of Aziraphale's wings, neither of them expect Aziraphale to react so strongly to his touch. Even though both are in way over their heads, they don't want to put an end to it.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 211





	heart on display

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LostCryptid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostCryptid/gifts).



> hah...i bet you didn't think i would finish this in time (tbf neither did i) but here we are!  
> please enjoy

"...Was that a moan, angel?"

Aziraphale slapped a hand over his mouth, but it was already too late. Taking a deep breath, he lowered his hand again.

“No, no…that just…tickled.” There was a long pause and Aziraphale held his breath, equally anticipating and dreading Crowley’s response.

“Ah, of course,” Crowley replied, in the same tone of voice he used when he was letting Aziraphale win an argument

Another pause, and then Aziraphale could feel the light touch again, dancing over his rumpled feathers and smoothing them out. “Do you want me to stop?” Crowley’s voice was carefully neutral, if not a little shaky.

Aziraphale recognized an out when it was given to him. He should put an end to this, he wasn’t sure if he could resist the temptation if he didn’t.

Then again, that didn’t matter anymore, did it?

“No,” he breathed out, a little too fast, a little too eager. “Don’t stop. I would just look silly with one groomed wing, wouldn’t I?”

Behind his back, Crowley cleared his throat as he slid his finger over the expanse of Aziraphale’s wing leaving a trail of heat in his touch.

“You would. I guess this can’t be helped then.” Aziraphale could hear the fondness in Crowley’s soft chuckle. Even without seeing him, he knew the expression the demon was wearing all too well.

“It really can’t,” Aziraphale confirmed with poorly faked nonchalance, twitching when Crowley’s fingers slid over the very edge of his wing, gently separating tangled feathers. There was no reply and briefly, Aziraphale imagined the look of intense concentration on Crowley’s face. Then his touch returned, making Aziraphale squirm in his seat.

It should have been relaxing. Crowley was awfully careful not to actually tug too hard, but instead, his soft touch left Aziraphale high-strung and aching like he had never been before. He barely held back a whimper, squeezing his eyes shut to block out the world.

Behind him, Crowley stilled. “You don’t have to do this, Angel,” he said softly. He had to be close because Aziraphale could feel his hot breath against his neck.

Reluctantly, Aziraphale opened his eyes again. He took a deep breath, feeling his face flush with the embarrassment burning beneath his skin. “I know,” he agreed, gathering his resolve to continue to speak. When it came to this, words always had the tendency to fail him. “It feels good,” Aziraphale admitted quietly, the words heavy on his tongue. “Don’t stop.”

He didn’t turn around to see Crowley’s reaction. He was not sure if he could bear to see the unguarded affection on the demon’s face, not when feeling it in the air around them was enough to make him a little dizzy.

“Okay, “Crowley breathed out and his voice trembled ever so slightly. “Okay. I won’t stop, I promise.”

He picked up where he had left off, slender fingers expertly working through the dense plumage to ensure there weren’t any feathers sticking in the wrong direction. He still paused, ever so briefly, when Aziraphale had to bite back a quiet whimper.

His skin was buzzing with oversensitivity. Part of him was still not quite sure if he was ready for anything like this. It felt like taking a step off of a cliff with his wings clipped.

But he wanted. He had wanted for so long, but he never had been quite ready to admit it, even to himself.

Another breathy sound escaped him. Crowley had reached the very base of his wing, his touch too light to be anything more than a light caress. There was something reverent in the way Crowley treated him, and it told Aziraphale everything he already knew.

“Can you touch me?” Aziraphale asked before he could think better of it. Even to his own ears, his voice sounded small. It was a selfish thing to want, but his body burned in a way that had little to do with hellfire.

There was a sharp intake of breath behind him followed by a pair of lips brushing against the naked skin of his neck. “Anything for you, Angel,” Crowley agreed easily, his voice rough and full of emotion. His touch left Aziraphale’s wing, slowly traveling along his back until it rested against his hip. “Like this?”

Crowley’s hand was incredibly warm, the heat seeping through the fabric of Aziraphale’s pants. Aziraphale stared at it for a moment, the reality of the situation sinking in. Then, he nodded. “Please Crowley,” he added, his voice quivering, not with doubt but with yearning.

The first touch to the hardness hidden in his pants made him flinch, the sensation different from what he expected. Like he had promised, Crowley didn’t stop this time. Instead, he cupped him through the fabric, just briefly applying a little pressure, before he withdrew his touch.

Crowley snuck his second hand around Aziraphale as well, effectively caging him against his chest. “Is this okay?” he asked, his fingers hovering over Aziraphale’s fly, their intention clear.

Once again, Aziraphale nodded, his throat suddenly gone dry. Crowley was quick in opening his pants, pushing them down just enough to free Aziraphale’s straining erection. The sight of Crowley’s elegant fingers wrapping around him, startled another moan out of him. It took him a second to realize that the glide was smooth.

Then, it didn’t matter anymore because Crowley started moving his hand, his touch unhurried and loving.

Helpless to keep his eyes open, Aziraphale allowed himself to sink back against Crowley, his head against the demon’s bony shoulder.

“You’re so beautiful,” Crowley murmured by his ear, his voice laced with awe. Aziraphale couldn’t say if he was meant to hear it or not. He couldn’t reply anyway, too lost in Crowley’s touch, too worked up from his tender care.

There was no rush, and yet, Aziraphale found himself clutching at Crowley, rolling his hips into Crowley’s touch with increasing desperation. It felt like he imagined burning had to feel, the heat all-consuming and the soft smell of smoke from Crowley’s skin surrounding him.

When he came, his voice rose and he twisted in Crowley’s grip, unable to fully control his body. Crowley held him steady, stroking him through his orgasm until his pleas died down to a quiet whimper.

Breathless, Aziraphale closed his eyes, relaxing into the hold Crowley had on him. He could feel Crowley’s own hardness against his back, and he knew he should offer to do something about it. It hardly seemed fair otherwise.

Before he could open his mouth though, Crowley pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, Angel.” Warmth flooded Aziraphale, and he sat up despite the sudden exhaustion in his body. He turned around, wings vanishing until he could see Crowley. Carefully, he took Crowley’s face into his hands, tilting his chin up so he could press a kiss to his mouth.

“You know, that I love you, right?” Aziraphale asked quietly, smiling when Crowley stared up at him in open wonder. He pressed another kiss to his lips, then to his cheeks, his nose and his forehead. “Stay with me.”

With a small tug, Aziraphale found himself being pulled fully onto Crowley’s lap, the demon’s forehead touching his own. “Whatever you say, Angel.”

There was no need to say anything else.

**Author's Note:**

> this was born as a snippet a few months ago and i finally got around to make it into a small ficlet
> 
> a big thank you to [essie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvercistern) for taking the time to beta this for me
> 
> find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/s_r_writer)  
> 


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